


though my eyes stare inward now at where you were

by areyoumarriedriver



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/pseuds/areyoumarriedriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d opted not to wear her lab coat – meeting him in plain clothes would disassociate her from his other doctors – it was important that he trusted her. He didn’t look up as she shut the door behind her and walked over to sit across from him. “Hello, John – my name is Melody-”</p><p>He looked up at the sound of her voice and a bright grin broke across his face instantly, all appearance of tiredness falling from him as he sat up straighter. “Doctor River Song, my bad, bad girl, what have you got for me this time?” His eyes were bright as he leaned forward and she stared at him for a moment, and debated how to proceed. He’d obviously instantly included her in his delusion – which could be good in terms of acquiring his trust, but bad in terms of him talking to her – depending on what role he’d assigned her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	though my eyes stare inward now at where you were

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this started off based on a gifset on Tumblr. But it has so morphed past that I can't even properly explain what it i so here's a story and um, trust me?

**_though my eyes stare inward now at where you were_ **

“Professor! Professor!” Melody sighed as she heard the call, turning with a strained smile as a young, harried looking woman ran across the hall toward her. “Hi – I’m Doctor Martha Jones,” she stuck out a hand, smiling brightly and Melody shook it firmly, studying the young woman’s face carefully. Not a student then.  And judging by her clothing and the lab coat peeking out of her bag, she was a medical doctor – not even a psychiatrist. Melody frowned in greeting.

“Dr. Jones, lovely to meet you. However – I’m off to-”

“I’m really very sorry for just ambushing you like this,” Dr. Jones apologised as she waved a hand and indicated they could continue walking. “But I couldn’t think of _anything_ else, I swear. I’m normally _much_ more professional than this, but this is a special case.”

“You’re running out of time Dr. Jones, so perhaps less apologising and more explaining, hm?” Melody glanced over at the girl who looked so relieved to even be allowed to walk and talk – the strain on her face showed that she was clearly driven by whatever she’d come for.

“It’s about a patient. I’ve tried to get in touch with Bethlam, but my requests keep getting rerouted or – or – I don’t know, lost in the cracks. John Smith, twenty-nine. Really brilliant guy, and I mean _really_ brilliant. High-functioning, has tested very high on standardized tests. We’re talking an IQ in excess of a hundred and sixty. A year ago, he was involved in an MVI, the other two passengers died on impact. I treated him when he came in.” Martha spoke quickly, digging in her bag and pulling out a file as she hurried along beside Melody.

“None of this explains why you’re here – I’m a professor of psychiatry, I don’t deal with MVIs Dr. Jones.” Melody spoke kindly, her hand reaching up and clutching the locket that hung around her neck as she frowned at the other woman and Dr. Jones shook her head.

“Thing is, after the accident, he had severe head trauma. Took him months to recover – ages – had to relearn fine motor control, speech therapy – everything.  But when he did recover, he – he wasn’t right. He doesn’t remember _anything_. No memory at all except that he kept insisting things that couldn’t possibly be true. We referred him to our psychiatry unit, and they diagnosed him as bi-polar with signs of dementia.” Martha frowned and Melody halted, turning to the other doctor with a frown.

“You disagree.” It wasn’t a question, Melody could see the disapproval radiating off of Martha Jones, like a palatable wave.

“I’m a medical doctor; I’m _not_ a trained psychiatrist. But the thing is, I treated John Smith for seven months after his accident. And he was alert – even once he regained speech – never _once_ did he have a report of an auditory or visual hallucination. He would take about – talk about this world he’s from with absolute, unwavering conviction. We had several incidents when nurses or other doctors tried to dissuade him.”

“You think he has delusional disorder?” Melody asked, sighing and dropping her hand from her necklace, she held a hand out for his file, which Martha handed over with a relieved sigh. “What type?”

“I’m not sure, but I’d say mixed with a focus on grandiose. I’ve been to see him since they’ve started treating him – and it’s – it’s _horrid_. He’s barely lucid, and heavily medicated. He’s not a danger, honestly – not to himself and not to others- except for when-”

“They challenge his delusions, yes,” Melody was scanning the file. “No family?”

Martha shook her head. “Not that we could find. We looked – good and hard too. No records in other mental hospitals – it’s like he just appeared out of nowhere.  The two people who died in the accident – a Jane and Jack Whitehall – seemingly have no relation whatsoever to Mr. Smith. Family and friends don’t understand why he was with them and had never met him before.”

“Why are you _here_?” Melody asked her seriously and Martha met her gaze head on, not flinching.

“You’re a consultant with Bethlam – you do case study work there, and moreover you wrote five separate articles on the importance of relying more on psychotherapy instead of drug therapy with delusional disorder in the past year _alone_. I’ve read your articles – the way you talk about the importance of trust in the patient/therapist relationship – if you’d just – he’s _special_. I don’t know what it is exactly, but there’s something about him. He reminds me of - I just – I don’t want to see him locked up and drugged to the gills – he deserves better.” Martha pleaded with her and Melody looked at her kindly. “Bethlam won’t get back to me. And you can _help_. Please. Please, help me.”

Melody swallowed, looking down at the file in her hands. His photo was attached to the front, pale, dark hair, a shadow of stubble – and his eyes... she was accustomed to her profession, of course. And most patients she saw had empty eyes, or overly full. Manic or alight with something firing wrong in their brains. Dull or listless. But his looked _old_. Old and ancient – and his face was so young it drew notice.  Something caught in her chest as she stared at the glossy image in front of her. “Okay,” she breathed out and Martha grinned, jumping back slightly. “I’m fifteen minutes _late_ for my next class however. I’m going to keep the file, if you don’t mind. I’ll have Bethlam contact...” she checked the file once more, “Victoria Gen and arrange to have him transferred. I’ll do my best to keep your name out of it – since it’s bound to step on some toes over there.”

“Oh thank you so so much Professor,” Martha grasped her hand, a bright smile on her face. “You’ve no idea – I’m thrilled.”

“I’ll keep you updated, if you just give me a card, or-” Martha was pressing a small white business card into her hand before she’d even finished speaking.

“Thank you, _so_ much. If anyone can help him – it’s you.”

“You are aware Dr. Jones-”

“Martha, please,” she interrupted and Melody nodded.

“You _are_ aware that delusional disorder isn’t normally a result of physical trauma? It’s usually hereditary, or a combination of genetics and childhood trauma- he will likely suffer from this for the rest of his natural life.” She spoke softly and Martha’s face fell, but she nodded in understanding.

“But you can help him – and _usually_ isn’t always. Maybe there’s some sort of miracle – just this once.” Martha nodded and Melody reached up, dragging a hand over her face as she stared at the young woman before her.

“He’s fortunate to have such a dedicated physician, Martha. I’ll keep in touch.”

“I look forward to it Profess-”

“Just Melody is fine. I’ve a feeling you’ll want to be kept _closely_ informed. Can’t have you calling me Professor the entire time.” Martha beamed at her as Melody closed the file, shutting out the image of the young old man with his rather haunting eyes.

“Melody, then. I know he’ll be in good hands,” Martha shook her hand once more, before turning and walking back in the opposite direction. Melody watched her go, feeling the weight of the file in her hand as she glanced down. In good hands.

She certainly hoped so.

_Xx_

She stared through the door window and listened to the nurse’s report absent-mindedly, nodding when she should, her hand wrapped around her locket as she watched him sit in the armchair by the window. His hair was a mess, he had even more scuff than his photo – but then he’d not have been allowed a razor, she knew. “Thank you Nurse Ramsford. I’ll page you if I need anything,” she smiled at the older nurse, who nodded and moved silently back down the hall.

Melody opened the door, smoothing her dress, and placing her locket under her blouse before tucking her hair behind her ears. She’d opted not to wear her lab coat – meeting him in plain clothes would disassociate her from his other doctors – it was important that he trusted her. He didn’t look up as she shut the door behind her and walked over to sit across from him. “Hello, John – my name is Melody-”

He looked up at the sound of her voice and a bright grin broke across his face instantly, all appearance of tiredness falling from him as he sat up straighter. “Doctor River Song, my bad, bad girl, what have you got for me this time?” His eyes were bright as he leaned forward and she stared at him for a moment, and debated how to proceed. He’d obviously instantly included her in his delusion – which could be good in terms of acquiring his trust, but bad in terms of him talking to her – depending on what role he’d assigned her.

“-Williams,” she finished introducing herself and decided to play along. “Why are you calling me River?”

“River Song, yes, Melody– I know. You and I – we’re – wait – have you ever met me before?” He looked very sad all of a sudden, his eyes shining with tears as he sat on the edge of his seat – reaching for her with a hand that shook. “River, _please_ – please tell me you know who I am.” His hand slid along her face, and Melody tensed – but she could discern only sadness in his eyes. Not anger or anything else that might lead to violence.

“Who are you?” she asked instead, her voice purposefully gentle and he blinked, tears falling down his suddenly pale face. He shook his head in denial, sniffling as he clearly tried to reign himself in. She leaned into his hand, warm against her skin – his fingertips tracing the corner of her jaw softly.

“I’m – I’m the Doctor. Well, they call me the Doctor – don’t know why. I call me the Doctor too. Still don’t know why. I’m the Doctor, River – and you and I – we know each other,” he looked at her intently and she blinked in surprise.

Of course she’d read all the reports about his delusions, but this was something different altogether.  She stared into his hazel eyes, and she felt like he could see her – like he knew her very soul and it was extremely disconcerting. She pulled away and a shadow passed over his face before he smiled at her, but his expression was so very _old_ and impossibly sad.  “It’s alright, it’s alright – you don’t know me yet. That’s fine. That’s _okay_. Our time streams you see – we don’t travel in the same order. My firsts are your lasts.”

She ran a hand through her hair, shocked to see that it shook, as she looked at him calmly. “How do we know each other?” she asked carefully and he shook his head with an enigmatic smile.

“Spoilers. Can’t be told, has to be lived. Only I didn’t think – I’d hoped the end wouldn’t be so-” he choked up, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “And I look absolute _rubbish_ , oh what a terrible first meeting for you, dear.”

“You look fine,” she assured him with a small smile, “Doctor.” He beamed at the name and she frowned in mock confusion. “They said you were admitted under John Smith.”

“Ah well, no identification, you know, River. Well you _don’t_ know – blimey – I’m going to have to explain _everything_ aren’t I? I don’t know that I’ll be as good at it as you were. Will be. Depending on point of view I suppose. I think I was hiding, you see. So please – do use John Smith when others are about. But it’s just us here – when it’s just us, I’d like for you to call me Doctor.” He smiled at her, his mouth curling up in a boyish manner and she found herself smiling back, genuinely. He was rather charming, even with all his delusions.

“Hiding from whom?” She inched forward in her seat as she asked and he moved forward as well, his knees brushing against hers. He frowned in confusion, as if he needed to think about the question.

“I don’t – I don’t quite remember. Everything isn’t all back yet – just bits and pieces. But I _must_ have been hiding River, because only one heart, you see,” he reached for her hand, pulling across the space between them and placing it over his chest. His white cotton shirt was soft under her fingers and she could feel the reassuring beat of his heart against her palm.

“Only one?”

“Yes, see – I’m like you, you understand. Gallifreyans – we’re special. Timelords – not that you’re timelord _precisely_ but near enough. We have two hearts.” His hand covered hers, and she sat with him, staring in confusion. He’d not nearly gone into this much detail with any of his previous Doctors.

“Two hearts,” she repeated faintly and he nodded, his fingers lacing through hers.

“Yes. Didn’t you ever wonder why you had two?” he asked with a frown, but he spoke again before she could respond. “I must have used the chameleon arch to hide. Here – not sure _why here,_ or why my memories are coming back like this. Slow – and all – did I have a watch? A pocketwatch?”

“I can ask, I’m not sure what you had with you during the accident,” she promised. “But Doctor, I only have one heart, not two,” she pointed out in a soft voice, and he lit up, his hand releasing hers to reach forward and rest them on her chest. Not on her breasts – but above them and she tensed and then relaxed.

“River, River – oh you beautiful _brilliant_ girl, do you know what this means? We must have altered you as well – _that’s_ why you don’t remember me.  Not your first meeting – no of course not! We must have done it together. Of course we did it together, I’m so _thick_. Why would I ever leave you behind? I wouldn’t – I would never, ever – my River.” He grabbed her shoulders in his excitement, pulling her forward and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. His stubble scratched against her skin but he pulled back quickly, his hands cupping her face. “I’m so glad I’ve _found_ you.” His thumbs brushed against her cheeks and he looked at her with such immense _joy_ that she felt herself hold her breath in response.

Damn if he wasn’t utterly convincing in his delusions – she’d never met a patient like him before in her life.  Most people with delusional disorder were of course, utterly and totally convinced of their own delusions – but she’d never had a patient who could draw _her_ in so quickly.  “Doctor,” she spoke carefully, pulling herself out of his embrace awkwardly and he flushed, looking down and stammering out an apology.

“Quite right – sorry, so sorry. You don’t know me – that was unforgivable of me, I’m so sorry. Hopefully you don’t think I’m just some sort of mad man. Well – no I mean – I need you to trust me River.” He looked back up at her, his eyes on hers as he spoke and she exhaled slowly.

“Do you trust _me_?” she asked in return and he nodded, his hands reaching for hers again.

“Of course. More than anyone in the universe, River Song. Second only to myself – you – I’d trust you with my _life_.” She swallowed at his words, shoving aside the odd ache they produced in her chest. He was clearly experiencing erotomanic delusions as well – fixated on her. Which was fine – it was helpful actually, so long as she kept him very carefully in check.

“Then I trust you too, Doctor,” she spoke softly and he grinned. “But you need to help me – help me because you – you can’t be released from here just yet.”

“Are you a Doctor here as well?” he grinned. “A _medical_ doctor – oh you’d _hate_ that.”

“Psychiatrist, actually,” she pointed out softly and he chuckled.

“Oh your father would love that – do you think that had something to do with it, him being a nurse?” She gasped at his question, pulling back to look at him askance.

“How did you know that? About my father – being a nurse?”

“I told you, River Song. I _know_ you,” he smiled confidently and she felt her chest constrict. He’d guessed – that was all, she assured herself. There was no way he’d know. No way he _could_.

“Alright – Doctor-” the door opened then and they both sat back instantly, Melody crossing her legs with ease and realising she’d not even _opened_ the journal she’d taken for notes. She’d have to write it all down afterward.

“Time for his medication,” the nurse smiled politely, and John looked back out the window, unresponsive. Melody stood, taking the paper cup from the nurse and moving over to the bed to pour a cup of water. Once the nurse left, he stood, moving over to her with alacrity.

“I don’t like the pills River,” he insisted and she frowned.

“These are different than the ones you were taking, Doctor. I chose these ones – and they won’t hurt you – I promise.” She spoke encouragingly and he took the pills from her reluctantly.

“Are you _sure_?”

“I can’t get you out of here unless you help me sweetie,” she spoke carefully – unsure where the endearment came from, but something about this young man simply engendered feelings of dearness. She understood now why Martha had sought her out. His whole face lit up at the term of endearment and he took the pills happily, swallowing the water before she indicated the bed with a wave of her hand. He clambered in, and she pulled the covers over him before smoothing down his hair. “You aren’t going to leave are you?” he mumbled tiredly as the mild sedative worked its way through his system.

“I have to – I have other patients, Doctor. But I’ll be back. Same time tomorrow, and we can talk alright?”

“I’d like that,” he mumbled as his eyes drifted shut. “My River,” he whispered the words before succumbing to the sleep – he’d likely not gotten a lot as they’d had to detox him of the previous medications over the last few days. She watched his even breathing for a moment longer, gripped by the strangest urge to smooth his brow or – or –

Hardly appropriate, she reminded herself as she picked up her notebook, and then made a note in his chart about the time he’d received the medication. She exited the room quietly, letting the nurses know to page her if he woke and needed her.

_xx_

He never wavered in his delusions. She visited him daily, and he talked and talked and talked to her – he told her stories about other worlds, about people he’d met – like the story of Rose Tyler – trapped in a parallel universe.

Or Jack Harkness – a man who can live forever.

Coping mechanisms, obviously – these people and stories must have represented parts of his actual past, so she took notes painstakingly as she attempted to decipher it. But at times he seemed to know things about _her_ – the strangest things like how she kept a diary or that she took lemon in her tea or that she loathed hats and loved rain. Sometimes he caught her off guard, and it made her heart race as she would stare at him.

She tried, to no avail to get him to go through hypnosis sessions with her to recall his past. But in his mind, there was no memory loss.  He spoke to her, but he only ever spoke of his delusions – and it concerned her. She stood at the nurse’s station, flipping through his chart while her colleague, Dr. Franklin discussed John’s case with her.

“I just think you should consider handing him over. It’s clear he’s suffering from erotomanic delusions regarding yourself, Dr. Williams, and that can’t end well-”

“The fact that he’s fixated on me in such a manner is hardly uncommon, Dr. Franklin,” she interrupted him smoothly, pinning a smile in place as she turned toward him. “The patient trusts me, in a way he’s not trusted previous doctors – his best chance at management is with me-”

“Dr. Williams you and I both know, recovery or management is never going to be an option for this patient. Don’t get attached.” She glared at him as he spoke, even though she knew he was more than correct. John was- John was so deeply engrossed in his own delusions – he’d never function outside of them. But she wished –

“His manifestation presumably occurred post-injury and we simply do not know enough about the nature of his delusions to judge that, Dr. Franklin. This disorder is _rare_ and his case is even more unusual and you can’t rule out possibilities based on cases that cannot compare to his own. I’ll run my therapy as I like, and I’ll operate my case studies as I like, and if you don’t approve of that, you can take it up with the board.” She smiled as she spoke and he simply looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

“I was just observing, Melody. As a friend.”

“No, Philip – you were interfering. And we’re not friends.” She turned and strode down the hall, chart still in hand as she tried to calm herself before her session. Her hand automatically reached for the locket under her blouse, tracing the shape as she walked. She couldn’t be late – even though he had no clocks, John had a rather uncanny sense of time. She’d been late once – and he’d known down to the minute how long she’d missed.

She took a deep breath, opening the door to find him sat in his chair by the window. He was fidgeting, tugging on the neck of his shirt, smoothing his hands along the legs of the joggers her wore. He looked odd in the clothes – and it was a habit of his that he constantly fiddled with them, especially the neck area, as though he were as uncomfortable as he looked in them. “John,” she greeted him with a brief smile and he looked at her, his eyes narrowed.

“You’re upset, what’s wrong?” he asked immediately as she sat down and she blinked in surprise.

“I’m not-”

“River, don’t lie to me, please. We lie – but not to each other, not if we don’t have to.” His gaze pinned her down and she swallowed, glancing out of the window.

“Just an unfortunate run in with a colleague. It’s nothing to – to upset you with, honestly.” She sighed and he stared at her, affection clear on his face and she flushed and fidgeted. Good lord, sometimes his direct focus made her feel so – she was his _doctor_ for goodness sakes. But he- despite the delusions, the way he looked at her – the way he focussed on her could be dangerous.

“But it is to _do_ with me,” he pointed out in a soft voice and she swallowed, shaking her head. “Colleague, so that means you’d be discussing my _case_ ,” he mimed quotes as he spoke and she shook her head, “probably recommending you distance yourself, I’d guess.  You can’t _do_ that River,” he leaned forward, his eyes on hers as she swallowed. “I need you – I need your help. No one else – only you. We need to – to figure this thing out.” He ran a hand through his hair in irritation, his hand dropping to scratch at his cheek and she frowned and the gesture made her heart ache.

Why – why would it?

“We will figure it out,” she started and he laughed drily, shaking his head.

“It’s – it’s so frustrating because you don’t _know_. You don’t know – you’ve forgotten everything and I suppose in a way, I deserve this. You’ve always known me.” He paused, and looked over at her with a sigh. “Always loved me – maybe this is – is the universe’s way of balancing things between us. But you look at me like I’m a stranger, and I’ve never seen that. And it hurts more than I ever thought possible,” his voice was low and laced with pain as he licked his lips and looked away from her face like he couldn’t bear the sight.

Oddly enough, she somehow felt like she’d _failed_ him in some way – and it frightened her immensely. She closed her eyes for a moment, reminding herself of the facts at hand. He was a patient. She was his doctor. She couldn’t let him convince her of his delusions, no matter how that pained, lost little boy look on his face tugged at her heartstrings.  “I’ve brought you a surprise,” she finally spoke, changing the subject as she reached into her bag and pulled out a razor and shaving cream.  His eyes lit up and he rubbed a hand along his cheek.

“Bloody hell that would be amazing. You trust me with that though? _Mad_ as I am?” his tone was slightly bitter but she ignored that as she handed him the tools. His fingers brushed against hers as he took them, looking up at her. “You have to come with me, yeah? Make sure I don’t – oh I don’t know, off myself, right?” He stood with a grin, and moved into the bathroom as she followed.

She perched on the edge of the tub as he filled the sink with hot water and glanced over at her. “So what’s the bad news then? Hmm? You always soften me up, normally.”

She swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not – not – I finally heard back from the police about the MVI. If you had anything in the car with you, it was likely destroyed in the fire.” He lathered cream on to his skin as she spoke, listening intently.

“That would explain it I suppose. I didn’t open it. This means I need to get to the TARDIS, and you have every reason to think I’m insane. Although...” He paused his movements to look at her thoughtfully. “But no, you’d never recognise it. Not supposed to are you?” He sighed and began to shave carefully, his movements slow and precise.

She watched him intently, and odd feeling of deja-vu creeping over her – like she’d watched him do this before.  But that was impossible, of course. “How did we meet?” She isn’t sure what possesses her to ask the question but his hand pauses and he swallows.

“Can’t tell you that – you’ve not done it yet. Spoilers.”

“That seems an awfully convenient way to get out of any questions I could ask,” she laughed as she spoke and he shrugged.

“Ask me something I can answer then,” he continued shaving, his eyes fastened on his own reflection. “I know you’re – you’re just indulging me in the hopes you can cure me River.”

“I’ve never seen a case like yours, I don’t know what – what to make of you really,” she confessed in a soft voice and watched him carefully. “Alright then, who am I to you?”

He swiped the razor over his face one last time, splashing fresh water over his face and pressing a towel against his face before he drained the sink and turned to face her, clean shaven. He looked even _younger_ if possible and she smiled indulgently at him. “Are you really curious or humouring me?”

“I’m – I’m _genuinely_ curious,” she answered, standing slowly. He stared at her intently for a moment before stepping closer. His face was clean and inviting – his chin more prominent and she felt an odd urge to press her hands against his face.  She fidgeted, tugging at her blouse as he moved nearer, until she could smell the scent of shave gel and _him_ as her heart raced.

“Melody Pond,” he spoke softly, his hand lifting and stroking along her jaw gently. His fingers were long and cool against her skin, but she felt heat ignite within her, suddenly very aware that they were in the bathroom – the one room where there was no closed circuit security cameras. She shivered at him using _her_ name – he never ever did. He always referred to her as River – so regularly that this – him calling her Melody, _sounded_ wrong.  “River Song,” she relaxed a bit at that, the corner of her mouth curling and he grinned because he noticed – he seemingly noticed everything, he was particularly observant.  “You’re the woman who married me.”

Somehow she should have expected that, but she laughed anyway, her hand pressing against his chest as he full out _pouted_ at her. “No, no sweetie I’m sorry – you’re what? Twenty years younger than me?”

“You’re _so wrong_ ,” he smiled down at her, far from offended by her laughter – he looked like he was pleased. “I’m really not that young, you know.”

“Oh honey – but you _are_ ,” she bit her lip, still grinning and he shook his head, his eyes curiously intense. His hand stroked along her jaw, sliding down to her neck and slipping under her hair as she gasped out loud.

“Oh, shut up,” he spoke with a warm affection before his hands tightened on the back of her neck and he pulled her forward, his mouth covering hers. She stiffened – oh go oh god oh god – he was her _patient_ and this was so very wrong. She pushed against his chest weakly, waiting for shame to flood through her but he kissed her like he’d done it a thousand times before and she felt that heat that had ignited earlier spool through her, burning like wildfire as she gasped.

His tongue slipped into her mouth and she moaned, her hands curling into his shirt as she pulled him closer – even though she was _sure_ her brain was telling those hands to push him away.  He tasted amazing – like something she couldn’t name, and she wanted to just – to just kiss him until she figured it out. His hand slid into her hair, fingers tangling in her curls as his other hand gripped her hip and pulled her into him. She whimpered, the sound lost between her mouth and his and his fingers tightened on her as she felt a buzzing increase under her skin.

When he pulled back his eyes were dark and she gasped, finally, _finally_ pushing herself away from him and stumbling until her back hit the wall. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she responded automatically even as her heart raced and she knew her skin was flushed and oh god – she wanted to cross the room and do it _again_.  She dragged a shaking hand across her mouth as she realised – what she’d just done. Allowed _him_ to do. “I shouldn’t have –” she moved quickly, picking up the razor and mirror and gel and stumbling out into the room beyond. She grabbed her bag and shoved the items in.

“River, wait – please I didn’t – please, just _wait_ ,” he pleaded, following her, his hand tugging through his hair as he watched her jerk the strap over her shoulder. “I won’t – it won’t happen again. It’s just – it’s difficult sometimes because you’re _you_ but you – you don’t _know_ , and I just reacted and I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. Please – it won’t happen again. I _swear_. I swear it to you, I promise. Please don’t –” his hands shook as he reached toward her, palms up.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she assured him in a voice that shook. “But I have to – I have to go, I’m sorry.” She glanced at him, seeing the raw _pain_ in his eyes and the quiver of his chin as he stared at her. It was like a punch to her heart, swift and brutal and oh god, it _hurt_ her – it made her chest ache and she felt hollow as she stared at him. “I’m _sorry_ ,” she repeated, before she walked toward the door. Her hand on the knob, she turned and looked at him one last time before she opened it and left him standing there, a bereft look on his face that tore at her heart.

_xx_

She paced her small flat, hand clutching her necklace as she walked. What on Earth had she been _thinking_ – allowing him to –

No. Not allowing. She’d wanted him to. “God, Melody, what is _wrong_ with you?” she collapsed on to her sofa, picking up the tumbler full of scotch and taking a deep drink. The alcohol burned and tears stung at her eyes.

She was attracted to him – and she needed to recuse herself from the case. His mouth had felt – god his hands on her had felt so _right_ , and she’d felt like she’d been where she belonged. It was a feeling so startling she was shocked she recognised it at all. Up until that moment, she’d not been aware of feeling displaced in every other area of her life.

But he’d kissed her, and she’d felt it and now she knew. Her flat was too empty. She had no friends. Her parents were gone. Everything about her life suddenly felt like _less_. And she knew now – how she looked forward to her daily sessions with him, how she’d felt so drawn in by his delusions. It was all so dangerous, but the thought of withdrawing from his case – it made her chest ache and her blood run cold.

Her mobile rang next to her and she startled so badly that she sloshed scotch all over her hand and lap. “Oh christ, come on, pull it together Williams,” she muttered to herself as she placed the glass back on the table and rummaged through her purse for her mobile. She didn’t recognise the number, but answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“Okay, see the thing is I know I frightened you today – and I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry. I am really _very_ sorry River,” his words were rushed and she gasped in shock. She pulled the phone away from her ear to double check the number, but it remained the same.

“John? Where are you?” she asked quickly, her heart racing and he made a noise of frustration.

“ _Doctor_ – please – please don’t call me that. Please. I’m – I’m not sure where I am honestly – I had to leave,” he explained and she could hear the rush of traffic in the background. She stood, her heart pounding – he couldn’t be out there – it wasn’t _safe_.

“What? How? Why?” she spat the questions out and he chuckled, the sound low and warm in her ear.

“Shh, I’ll be fine River. Don’t – don’t worry about me. I’ve not been taking the medication you know. Easy enough to figure out which orderly suits my size best – and map their schedules. Thom was on tonight. And after what happened this afternoon – well. I thought it best if I left.” Melody’s mouth went dry – he’d not _harmed_ Thom had he? “What? No! He’ll wake up in the morning.  Honestly River,” he sounded frustrated and she was surprised she’d thought that out loud.

“Why – why do you have to go?” She felt small asking the question – like some little girl begging him not to leave. Her chest constricted and he sighed softly.

“I don’t remember River. I remember enough but not why we ran and I’m putting you at risk. I – there’s things I’m not remembering,” he made a noise of frustration and she nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “And your job now – I’m risking that too because I can’t – I can’t look at you and separate it. Melody from River.” She gasped at that – never ever before had he shown an awareness of his own delusions. She’d never seen _any_ case like his – if he was becoming aware – perhaps there was a cure. Some sort of therapy that allowed him to-

“Doctor – no. Please – just – I won’t make you go back, I won’t but you can’t _leave_ ,” she insisted, her heart pounding frantically. “Just come talk to me. Come and _see_ me, please.”

“It doesn’t matter you know,” he spoke as if she’d not said a word and she choked back a sob at the sound of the finality within his tone. “Melody or River – I love you so much – either way. Always.”

“Doctor, _please_ ,” she whispered and he laughed softly.

“I don’t know what went wrong River. Maybe – maybe the accident. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have the accident. Because I know – I know there is _no way_ I’d have not put us together here. It doesn’t bear thinking about. Something went wrong, and I have to fix it. I have to find the TARDIS, and then I can remember – I can reverse this, and I’ll come for you, I _promise_.” Panic clawed at the back of her throat, and she clutched at her locket, her breathing harsh. She wasn’t sure what the hell was going on anymore – he’d escaped – like he’d never been caged in the first place. How had he _done_ that? Why hadn’t he left before? She couldn’t let him leave – she couldn’t – her chest felt like it was caving in and she couldn’t _breathe_.

_“Please, my love. Please, please just run!”_

_“I can't.”_

_“Time can be rewritten.”_

_“Don't you dare. Goodbye, River.”_

She heard the words echo like a memory around her – even though she’d never heard them before. Suddenly that clawing feeling morphed into a monster – huge and desperate in her chest. She had to – had to _stop_ him.

“No!” she shouted down the line, tears making her voice thick. “You _can’t_ – you can’t leave me. Come for me – come for me now. Right now, Doctor. This instant.” She sniffled as she uttered the demand and there was nothing but silence on the other end for one moment. Her heart stopped – had he left?

“ _River_ ,” his voice was strained when he spoke again. “Please – please just let me do this alone.”

“No!” she all but shouted into her mobile, her hands shaking as she shook her head. “No I will not – I will _not_ let you do it alone. I promised you-” She stopped suddenly – feeling light-headed.

“River, promised me what? Are you – are you remembering?” He demanded and she felt the room spin around her.

“I don’t – I don’t feel – please, my love. Please. I don’t – you said – time can be rewritten.” She whispered the words, sinking to her knees as she pressed her forehead against the cool table. “Come back,” she pleaded and she could hear him shouting her name – but it sounded far away.

“River!” Her mind cleared a bit, like emerging from a fog and she frowned in confusion. Hands were pulling her up, and hauling her into his lap as his arms wrapped around her. She frowned, but didn’t fight him, sinking into his embrace as he smoothed a hand over her, checking her physically.

“You’re here?” she whispered in a daze and blinked up at him. “You’re here!”

“I was at – at the pay phone down the street – River, are you okay?” His hand rested on her cheek finally and he looked at her with concern. “God, you scared the _hell_ out of me – don’t ever do that again,” he scolded her and she blinked in surprise, reaching up to run her fingers through the long ends of his hair. He was dressed differently – tweed and a bowtie, and she stared up at him, her mouth open.

“I got dizzy,” she remembered and he shook his head.

“You were unconscious. River – you said something – before you stopped talking. Time can be rewritten – where did you hear that?” He asked urgently and she struggled to sit up in his arms, her hands reaching for his face tenderly as she stroked at the smooth skin.

“I said it,” she answered automatically and he grinned – his whole face lighting up. “I – no I didn’t, but I heard it. I told you to run. I said that – and you said- you said _goodbye_ ,” she choked on the words, turning wild eyes to him. “What is _happening_ to me?”

“No – no – you are _fine_. You’re fine. You’re remembering, oh – my River,” he smiled at her and she shook her head.

“No, it’s not real – John – _none of it is real_.”

“Reality is a matter of perception, dear – and yours isn’t correct at the moment. It’s real. I’m real – _we’re real_. You are my wife, and I love you very much. I didn’t want to – to put you at risk. But you’re remembering. So you – you have to come with me.” He looked at her sadly and she clutched at him, shaking her head.

“No – no – John if I go with you they’ll think you’ve taken me. We can’t-” She protested but he pulled her closer, his hands sliding into her hair as he shook his head.

“I can’t leave you like this – I _can’t_.”

“Then _stay_ with me. Just stay – and we’ll figure this out together,” she offered, tears in her eyes because she knew even as she said it – he would never agree.

“We can’t. It’s not safe-”

“It’s not _real_ John, please-”

“It’s _real_ ,” he insisted loudly, his hands in her hair tightening before he forced himself to relax. “River it is _real_. Please – just – trust me. Come with me and trust me. We’ll find our ship and I’ll prove it to you. _Please_. I can’t leave you here.” Her heart pounded as she looked up at him. She couldn’t go – this was madness – like he was drawing her so far in that she was experiencing his delusions herself. She’d never – never experienced this before but she couldn’t –she had to _help_ him. He had to stay. He had to –

His mouth on hers cut off all coherent thought and she whimpered, her hands curling around his neck as she kissed him back. Her tongue slid against his and she felt that rightness – that familiarity return. Her chest was pressed against his and she could feel his heart beat echo hers – a double beat that reverberated through her and felt so utterly _right_. She moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. He pulled back, his teeth scraping along her lower lip as she sighed, and when she opened her eyes, she looked into his – dark with desire. Everything about this should be wrong.

But it wasn’t.

It was _right_ and she knew it. It was madness, but she had to help him – she had to. She wasn’t sure _why_ but she’d never been so sure of anything before in her life.

“Just let me pack.”

_xx_

She was mad.

Mad and exhausted by the time they made it to a room in a local motel. It was a bit run down, but he’d insisted they not take her car. He was in the shower, and she was sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the embossed wall covering blankly.

She was running away with a man who was looking for his _spaceship_ for christ’s sake. When he was away from her – things felt clearer. He was a mentally deranged _patient_ suffering from delusional disorder. Those were the facts.

But when he was with her – next to her, the light in his eyes didn’t seem manic – it seemed desperate and _scared_. He smelled familiar, his voice sounded familiar – the way he would say her name...

Which actually wasn’t even her name, but she felt like him calling her River was right, somehow. She rubbed a hand over her face, utterly knackered. They’d spent what was left of the evening in the library – looking for mentions in newspaper articles about his accident.

He’d looked utterly terrified the entire time, constantly checking on her visually – as if afraid she would disappear. He’d gone with her when she would look through old newspapers – despite her suggestion that it would go faster if they _both_ searched.

All he would say was that he didn’t like libraries.

Though she knew the date of his accident from his file – and she knew he’d been airlifted in to the hospital, Dr. Jones had never given her a precise location. He was convinced that his ship was somehow around that area, and she sighed, listening to the door open behind her. “What if we call Martha? Jones – she was the doctor who treated you after the accident,” she explained. She turned around, only to have any further words die in her throat as he stood there, wrapped in nothing but a towel – his dark hair damp and his skin glistening.

By all rights she shouldn’t even find him attractive. He had a pleasing enough shape, she supposed – broad shoulders and a narrow waist – his arms were not large by any means, but they seemed strong all the same. His hips – her gaze hovered around where his towel hung and she swallowed, glancing away and licking her lips. “Martha Jones – are you serious?”

“Don’t you remember?” she asked and he shook his head.

“The whole first year afterward is... fuzzy. And then they had me so drugged – I couldn’t – Dr. Martha Jones, ha. Will wonders never cease!” He grinned as he strode around the bed, sitting next to her – apparently uncaring that he was only in a towel.

“You know her?”

“She travelled with me once. Long, long time ago. Different face then, you see. I told you about her, remember. After Rose.” He pointed out and she flushed. “You probably presumed I was drawing some delusions from real life experience?” She flushed, and glanced away, biting her lip. He leaned in closer but she backed away, scrambling off of the bed.

“I uh – shower. I’m – I’ll be in there,” she stammered the words before escaping into the washroom and closing the door behind her, leaning against it with an exhausted sigh. “What are you doing, River?” she muttered to herself absent mindedly, only realising as she turned the taps – she’d called herself River.

“Oh god.” She tried to ignore how her hands shook as she stripped and stepped under the spray. She washed her hair quickly – there was no conditioner, and it wasn’t one of the things she’d thought to throw into her bag earlier. She muttered curses under her breath as she scrubbed her body – she _had_ remembered a razor, fortunately. She’d have to buy some condition tomorrow – her hair would look like a rat’s nest in the morning. She kept her hands busy – in the hopes that her mind wouldn’t have time to _over think_ everything the way she’d been doing nonstop since taking his hand and walking out of her building earlier.

She was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, tugging the wet strands out of her locket necklace when another wave of dizziness overcame her.

_“By Silencio Lake on the Plain of Sighs an impossible astronaut will rise from the deep and strike the Time Lord dead.”_   
  
_“It's a story.”_   
  
_“And this is where it begins. You never really escaped us, Melody Pond. We were always coming for you.”_

She gasped loudly, her feet slipping in the tub as she fell backwards, pulling the shower curtain down with her and landing with a dull thud. The water continued to spray down on her, pounding off the shower curtain carelessly.

The door slammed open and the Doctor came rushing in, looking panicked. “Are you alright?” he glanced around, holding the telly remote like a weapon. As if he expected something _in here_ with her and she groaned, struggling to sit up.

“I slipped,” she admitted with embarrassment and he frowned,  wrenching the taps shut before he glanced down at her. He instantly flushed and looked away and she looked down to see the curtain has slipped as well. “Oh shit – sorry. I uh – towel please?”

“Right, right – towel. Of course,” his eyes were tightly shut and he reached for the towel on the counter, knocking over the small stack of soaps by the sink. He finally shoved the towel at her and she flushed, struggling to stand and wrap it around herself – her hair hanging over her shoulders and dripping water down her back as she pulled a face.

“It’s okay,” she finally spoke and he popped one eye open cautiously. “You know – you’d think that if we were married, my breasts wouldn’t terrify you,” she pointed out drily as she took his hand and climbed out of the tub.

“They don’t _terrify_ me,” he finally stopped gaping at her long enough to respond. He let go of her hand, tugging his own through his hair anxiously. “I just – can’t look because – because well then I’ll _react_.” He whispered the last part and she frowned.

She looked at him, before looking down and – _oh_. “Oh!” She slapped her hand to her mouth and giggled a bit as he flushed and fidgeted awkwardly. “But you only saw me for a second!”

“And you’re standing here. In nothing but a towel. I can’t – I can’t help how my body reacts you, River. You’re – I mean – well _look at you_.” He waved a hand at her and she stared up at him in surprise.

“I’m old,” she finally spoke and he laughed, shaking his head.

“I’ve told you – you’re really not. Can we – can you put something on please? I can’t – I need to-” He backed toward the door and she grabbed his arm, halting him.

“Thank you. For you know – coming to my rescue. In a way,” she laughed, standing on tip toe and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He flushed and swallowed, nodding before he escaped the tiny washroom. She sighed, remembering the voices she’d heard just before she’d slipped and she frowned as she pulled her pyjamas on and brushed the tangles out of her hair.

When she exited the washroom, he was already under the covers, watching late night telly and giggling a bit at the comedian on screen.  “What’s Lake Silencio?” she asked as she climbed in beside him and he froze, turning his head to look at her.

“Have you – have you remembered that?” his voice was rough as he asked, and there was a shadow of pain in his eyes but she wasn’t sure why.

“Something – something about an astronaut, and she said – she said ’strike the time lord dead’. Was that you? Is that – is that who we’re running from?” she asked him seriously – she wasn’t sure _what_ she believed any more. But she kept having these flashes – and they felt so _real_. He reached for her, taking her hands in his and shaking his head.

“No – at least, I don’t think so. I can’t – it’s so difficult to explain, River. There were people who wanted me dead, yes. A long time ago – and they tried to use you to do it.” He spoke carefully and she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes as she listened. He looked up and shook his head, frantically, pulling her closer until he could press a kiss to her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. “You didn’t – you didn’t do it, my brave girl. We beat them – you and I, River.”

She curled into his side, her head on his shoulder as she pressed against him. “We did?”

“Well, you did. You’re always doing that you know – taking care of me. Even now, see? You can’t help yourself,” he grinned down at her, tracing a finger along her nose and the gesture felt so achingly familiar that she teared up at it, staring up at him.

“I don’t know what to think,” she confessed in a tiny voice and his arm around her tightened. “The possibility that you’re completely mad scares me. The possibility that you’re _not_ , scares me more.”

“I know, love,” he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and she tilted her face up to his, kissing him softly on the mouth. There was no heat in this kiss – rather it was a comforting brush of lips on lips and she sighed into his mouth as he kissed her back gently. “You’ve always protected me River. This time I’m going to protect you – I promise. Everything will be fine. I’d rather die than let anything happen to you – I _swear_ ,” he whispered the words into her hair and she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“Nothing makes any kind of sense,” she spoke into the soft cotton of his shirt and he rubbed her back gently, long fingers stroking along the expanse of her back.

“It will, soon. I promise. I’ll fix everything.” He reassured her gently, but as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the scent of him and the warmth of his arms – she couldn’t help but feel that he was making promises he couldn’t keep.

She fell asleep quickly, his voice threading its way through her dreams.

_“Everything will be fine.”_

_“Rule one: the Doctor lies.”_

_“I promise.”_

_xx_

After another day of futile searching, she finally convinced him to simply let her call Martha. He’d been vehemently against the idea at first – too dangerous, he’d said. They had no idea who was after them. Martha could be targeted.

“I’ll not tell her _why_ , Doctor. It will be fine. I promise,” she reassured him as they walked up to a pay phone in the street, him looking around suspiciously. “And for goodness sake’s could you _look_ any shadier? Honestly, sweetie,” she laughed at him and he glared at her before grumbling under his breath about nagging wives. “I heard that,” she poked at his side as she picked up the phone and dialled the number she’d written down earlier from her own mobile’s memory.

She’d shut her phone off right after – it had been off since they’d left. Just a precaution of course. She waited to be patched through to Martha’s cell – praying the younger woman answered it. “Dr. Jones,” she almost cried in relief at the sound of her voice.

“Martha! Hello – it’s Ri- Melody Williams,” she spoke into the phone and she heard Martha’s startled gasp on the other end.

“Just give me a second,” Martha muttered before there were muffled sounds and suddenly silence. “Where _are_ you? The police contacted me this morning – they said John had escaped and you were missing. You need to get back here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” she answered softly, turning her back to the Doctor, in the hopes he wouldn’t eavesdrop. Futile hopes, she knew. “I can’t really _explain_ ,”

“Are you alright? Is he – did he take you?”

“No! No he didn’t. Not like that. I’m – I’m helping him, Martha. I can’t – I can’t _explain_ but you have to know that I am fine, and please, please don’t tell anyone about this.” She pleaded with Martha and the younger woman sighed.

“Is he alright? Are you – you both alright?” she stressed and River nodded.

“We are, I promise. We are _fine_. But we need to go to – the site of his accident. We’re looking for something, and it’s _important_ ,” she stressed and Martha sighed once more.

“The police asked that too – so – so be _careful_ alright? He was found on the A236 – just past Croyden cemetery, toward Mitcham. But please, Melody. Be careful. And – and let me know – that you’re both alright? I won’t call anyone, I _swear_.” Martha spoke quickly and she nodded in response.

“I will. I promise. _Thank you_ , Martha Jones. You’re a star.” She spoke softly and behind her the Doctor stiffened while Martha gasped. “I have to go. We’ll call again.” She hung up quickly, before taking the Doctor’s hand and hauling him along behind her.

“What did she say?”

“We have an address, but we also have problems. The police have been to the hospital – looking for us. I _told_ you,” she scolded him as she ducked into a shop. She shoved him to the back, instructing him to pick up food of some sort, while she went to the front, grabbing sunglasses and two hats – a beanie and a pageboy style, and she paid for them quickly.

They exited the shop quickly, and they walked down the busy street to a seedy motel four blocks away. She paid for a room – using the name River Song, which he almost protested to, but she silenced him with a glare.

Once they were inside, she tossed her knapsack on the bed, along with their shopping bags and she turned to him. “We’ll have to go at night, obviously,” she explained, her heart beating hard and he looked at her, nodding.

“I agree. I don’t think the TARDIS is _right_ where the accident occurred anyway. Where are we going anyway?”

“Just past Croyden Cemetery,” she explained and he frowned, twirling about before licking his finger and holding it up.

“Twenty-eight kilometers that way – we’ll need a cab,” she watched him in shock. She wasn’t entirely certain – but she was fairly sure he was right. “Oh, your he’s hot when he’s clever face – one of my personal favourites,” he grinned at her, winking ridiculously and she laughed out loud, her hands reaching up to clutch her necklace as she giggled helplessly. He looked genuinely pleased with himself as she caught her breath. “So what now?”

“Now we eat. And wait until it gets dark,” she ran her locket along the chain nervously and he nodded, turning to the bags on the bed.

“I got fish fingers and custard – this place must have a bloody microwave right?” His voice faded as she felt a wave of dizziness pass over her suddenly.

_“Shut up! I can’t let you die without knowing you are loved! By so many, and so much. And by no one more than me.”_

_“Now there you go, River Song, Melody Pond. You’re the woman who married me.”_

She hit the floor with a dull thud and he was at her side in an instant, his arms around her as she remembered – she remembered a kiss and the silk of a bowtie. She felt him lift her, and deposit her on the bed, his arms never leaving her. When the rushing finally faded, she found her face buried by his neck – his bow tie brushing the corner of her eye. “We need to get you to the TARDIS and quickly,” he was speaking above her. “I’m not sure why you’re remembering like this – you shouldn’t be. It’s not usual. Of course when does River Song ever do anything _usual_?”

She nodded, reaching up and gripping the silk of his bowtie in one hand before she tugged it loose. He glanced down at her, startled – and she looked up at him. She felt like – like she was someone else. It felt _odd_ and _wrong_ and she wasn’t sure how to make that feeling go away. She just wanted her life back – her normal life – she wanted _control_ because everything felt like it was spinning madly. Like she could feel the rotation of the Earth beneath them and it was making her dizzy – she just wanted everything to _stop._

And the only time it ever felt like it did was when she kissed him. So she wrapped her hand around the loose bowtie and she tugged his mouth to hers. She kissed him like she was drowning, and he was oxygen. He made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, but his hands were on her instantly, gathering her closer – stroking along her back, reaching up to tangle in her hair as his mouth opened over hers.

She licked at his lip, scraping her teeth along it before sliding her tongue against his and moaning. Her entire body felt like it was alight – electricity burning and arcing along her bones as she turned in his arms, her knees landing on either side of his hips as she kissed him.

She felt alive. She felt _in place_ as she ground against him and his mouth broke from hers as he gasped. Her hands released his tie and set to work unbuttoning his shirt quickly. She shouldn’t be doing this, she knew. He could be mad.

She felt like she was joining him in that madness.

But oh god she didn’t _care,_ she thought as she shoved his shirt open, her mouth dropping to his neck as she licked along the length of it, teeth scraping as his hand tightened in her hair – his hips thrusting up against her. She moaned as his hands let her go, fingers scrabbling for purchase across her back. “River – oh god – River what are you doing?”

She rolled her hips over his, enjoying the choked sound he made followed by a primal groan. “I should think that’s fairly obvious, sweetie,” she purred – pushing his braces down and then pulling his shirt from his body to toss aside. He stared up at her, red cheeked and shocked, bless.

“But you – you’re not _you_ , and I – we _can’t_ ,” he protested weakly and she reached down for the hem of her own shirt, yanking it up and over her head.  His jaw dropped and she grinned down at him, kissing him once more and sliding her hands down his arms until she could wrap her fingers around his wrists. She lifted his hands to her breasts and he squeaked – the sound muffled by her mouth over his.

He didn’t need direction there though, shaking her hands off and palming her breasts through her bra with a moan.  “But you’re Melody,” he mumbled a protest against her lips and she shook her head.

“I want to be River – _please_ ,” she begged him and he pulled back, his hands sliding behind her back to unhook the clasp of her bra as she almost sobbed in relief. He tossed the lingerie aside, his mouth lowering to her breast as her fingers threaded through his hair.  When his lips wrapped around the tip of her breast, sucking greedily, his tongue running over her nipple – she cried out, her hands fisting as she arched toward him.

He was mumbling words of love in a language she couldn’t understand – she wasn’t even sure how she knew they were words of love at all – but she _knew_. “Oh god, sweetie – always.” She responded and he lifted his head, pushing her back until she was spread on the bed beneath him, her hands running over the smooth, pale skin of his shoulders and chest.  She reached for the button on his trousers, undoing it as he pressed kisses along her throat, past the chain of her locket – it was tangled somewhere in the back of her hair when she’d taken her shirt off earlier – and down to her collar bones, and then to her breasts. His hands – oh god his hands were _huge_ , long fingers that wrapped around the soft flesh of her breasts. He stroked at them, cupped them, pinched the nipples and rolled them between those fingers as she gasped underneath him, still trying to shove his trousers and pants down. “Please, honey – please?”

His hands left her for a moment as he helped her, shoving them down and kicking his boots off before shedding the rest of his clothes. She did the same, wriggling underneath him, her hands frantic as she undid her jeans and peeled them off, along with her knickers. “You are _so_ beautiful,” his voice was hoarse as his hands ran along her skin, over her breasts, ribs, nipping in at her waist and smoothing out along her hips, arse and thighs. “Perfect,” he breathed out the word, his eyes dark and golden as he looked at her, hunger on his face. His gaze was so intent, bordering on worshipful and she felt something clench within her – no one had _ever_ looked at her like that before. It was a heady feeling and she pulled him down to her, kissing him eagerly as she lifted a leg to wrap around the back of his thigh. She rolled her hips against him and they both groaned at that – tongues wrapped around each others. God, she was so wet already – she almost couldn’t believe it.

“God, Doctor – _please_ ,” she tore her mouth from his, pushing his hand between them eagerly. His fingers slid between their bodies, stroking between her thighs surely. His other hand gathered a breast, pulling it up to meet his mouth and he sucked hard on the nipple as his fingers slid within her, thumb pressing sharply down on her clit as he curled those fingers and nearly shattered her with one stroke. “Oh, god,” she sobbed out the words above him, her hands in his hair as his fingers moved within her – and oh god if she’d never believed him before – she definitely believed him now. He stroked her like she was an instrument he’d played all his life – he knew every spot, every bit of skin to lick and bite at – driving her wild. His fingers within her moved at just the right speed, just the right pressure, his thumb against her clit just perfectly hard enough – just perfectly everything. Just _perfect_.

He _knew_ her.

He knew her – it was all she could think as he worked her up beneath him, and when she flew apart, her hands let go of him, flying out to the sides as she clutched at the duvet. “Oh god, sweetie – please, please, I need you inside of me, right now,” she babbled incoherently, pulling him up to her so she could kiss him, her hands on his face as she wrapped her legs around his hips, and her tongue slid into his mouth just as she angled their hips, aligning them and he slid within her.

She whimpered at that, but continued kissing him – god it was like a drug – the inside of his mouth. She could kiss him forever, and never get tired of the taste of him. She felt him move within her, his hips pushing into hers as he pulled his mouth from hers and buried his face by her neck. “I’ve missed you so much – so much my River. God, it’s been so long,” he whispered the words brokenly into her skin and she could feel wetness on her neck. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes too – everything about this felt utterly _complete_.

“I love you,” she whispered the words as he moved over her and she felt a tremor pass through his body. She didn’t care – the words felt so intrinsically true – how could she have ever not known? “I do. I love you – so much. More than anything – more than anyone – no one loves you more than me,” she pulled at him, drawing him closer as his hips drove into hers. His hands gripped her tightly, and he sobbed into the skin by her throat, twisting his hips and grinding against her clit as he shouted her name. She fell apart right behind him, her hands clutching at him, screaming a word she didn’t understand – her mouth forming syllables she didn’t recognize, but his hands gripped her tighter and tighter as she spoke.

He collapsed over her, sweat slick skin sticking to hers, their hearts racing over one another as she panted, tears trickling down the side of her face and into her hair. They lay tangled together for a long moment afterward. “What did I say?” she asked him softly after a moment, and he slid from her, falling on to his back, his breathing still heavy. “I didn’t – that wasn’t english.”

He swallowed, looking over at her and pulling her to his side, his arm wrapping around her and burying in her hair. “It was my name. No one knows it but you. It’s a secret,” he confessed in a low voice and she stared at him, repeating the syllables in her head. The word held more weight in her mind now – she could feel the significance.

“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t have shouted it quite so loud then,” she felt a giggle burst out of her and she buried her face by his chest as he laughed gently. He kissed the top of her head quickly.

“Did you mean it? What you – what you said? You – you believe me now, don’t you?” his voice was unsure and she propped herself up on an elbow, looking down at him.

“I think I’d love you in any universe. I don’t think I have a choice. No matter – I’d choose you anyway.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his chin. When she pulled back he was looking at her with such love it nearly took her breath away. Like he’d been holding it all back – only for her sake. His hand combed through her hair as he watched her, and she smiled at him.

His fingers hit a snarl and she hissed in pain. “Oh, sorry – it there a – is there something caught back there?” He frowned, pulling her forehead to his chest so he could use both hands to untangle her hair.

“Oh my locket – it got caught before when I took my shirt off.” He untangled the chain from her hair and slid the locket around her neck as she rolled back into his side. His eyes were fastened on the chain, wide and full of joy.

“Oh my god – the whole time- it’s been right there. River. Look at you,” his fingers stroked the filigree on the locket and she frowned.

“It’s just an old necklace,” she pointed out and he laughed, shaking his head.

“No – it’s _you_. When we – when we change ourselves, there has to be a failsafe. A way to change back. Mine was a pocket watch – melted in the fire which is why I can’t – can’t quite remember everything. Yours is this – always with you but never to be properly _looked_ at until you need to.” He laughed brightly, grinning down at her. “Don’t you see? We can – can bring you back and you’ll know. Why it happened, and where we left the TARDIS – you’ll _remember_.”

His fingers clutched at her necklace and she felt a wave of fear roll over her as she scrambled back from him, sitting up and curling her knees into her chest. He sat up, watching her carefully. “Do you – do you not want to open it?” He asked her and she swallowed heavily, a knot in her chest.

“No I _do_. I do – because I can’t – I can’t save us unless I do. But I’m – I’m irrationally scared. I don’t know why,” she laughed hollowly, her hands clutched around the necklace.

“Fear is never irrational,” he soothed her, moving over to wrap his arms around her. “We can wait – if you’d like.”

“No that would make it worse.” She admitted and looked up at him fearfully. “What happens – does- does it hurt?”

“No – no – well, maybe. It – it alters your DNA. Back to what you’re meant to be. But afterward, it will feel like – like breathing again after drowning.” She nodded, reaching for his hands and bringing them to her chest.

“Can you do it?” she asked and he licked his lips, nodding. His hands twitched and she flinched. “Wait!”

“What?” he asked her softly and she reached for him, pulling his mouth to hers and kissing him. His mouth was pliant over hers and she kissed him over and over- until they were both breathless.

“I love you,” she whispered the words against his mouth and he closed his eyes. “Okay, go.” His hands twisted at the locket, opening it quickly. A rush of noise and light surrounded her and she gasped, pain ripping through her entire body as her mind flooded with memories.

_“Who else was I going to fall in love with?”_

_“No, you embarrass me!”_

_“Ah well, maybe when you’re older.”_

_“There’s a first time for everything.”_

_“... and a last time.”_

_“Hi, honey, I’m home.”_

_“Are you married River?”_

_“Of course I’m sure, I’m his wife!”_

_“You be a good girl.”_

_“I don’t want to marry you.”_

_“I don’t want to murder you.”_

_“Look into my eye.”_

_“Time can be rewritten.”_

_“Don’t you dare.”_

_“Find River Song and tell her for me – I love her.”_

_“Well, I’m sure she knows.”_

_“Who are you River?”_

_“Who’s River Song?”_

_“Am I the woman who married you or the woman who murdered you?”_

_“Billions upon billions will suffer and die!”_

_“I’ll suffer – if I have to kill you.”_

_“More than the entire universe?!”_

_“Yes.”_

_“The Singing Towers. He’s been promising to take me for ages.”_

_“What’s wrong my love?”_

_“River, I love you – I thought – I thought I could do this – I can’t. I can’t – say it.”_

_“Say what?”_

_“Goodbye.”_

She woke with a gasp, her hearts beating so fast in her chest that she felt like she would go into cardiac arrest. She shoved the blankets away from her- she was dressed now – how long had she been out? “Doctor?” she called out and a thud sounded as he scrambled out of the washroom, his face damp and freshly shaved, and his braces hanging around his hips, his shirt open.

“River! You’re awake – oh god I was _so_ worried,” he all but ran toward her, his hands running over her as he peered at her with concern. She could see he was practically _itching_  for a sonic and she chuckled.

“I’m fine, my love – just a bit of a headache. But I feel _much_ better,” she assured him and he sat beside her, pulling her into his arms, his face buried in her hair.

“I missed you _so much_. You were here- but it was like you didn’t _see_ me, or know me – and oh god that _hurt_ and I didn’t realise River – I never _knew_.” She hugged him back, smoothing her hands over his shoulders as she pressed kisses to the side of his head.

“It’s alright honey, it’s okay.” She pulled back and brought her hand up to cradle his face – oh his _face_ – god how she’d missed it. “I’m here now. And I loved you even then, sweetie – of course I did.” He leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his as he kissed her, and she could taste the gratitude within it, his hands stroking along her back. He tasted like time – but the tang was dulled and she knew he was still human – it was all a bit odd, really. But he was still her Doctor.

His hands stilled over her hearts and he pulled back, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I think half those drugs convinced me I was mad,” he whispered before dropping his head and pressing a kiss over each of her hearts. “But I’m not – I’m not. And you know that now.”

She held him close as he pressed his ear to her chest, listening to her heartbeats. “It’s alright my love, hush now.”

“Do you – River – do you remember everything yet?” He sat up and she avoided his gaze, her hearts clenching. “River?”

“Yes, I do.” She finally answered and he sighed in relief, his hands running along her shoulders as he grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek in delight. He pulled back and she felt the knot in her chest grow larger – how could she possibly tell him...?

“So you know where the TARDIS is?”

She nodded. “Exactly where you parked her, sweetie.” She spoke in a low voice and he beamed, nodding.

“Excellent, - I’m not sure how we can fix it without the watch, but I know you can figure something out. You and her – we have to get there, right away.” He stood up, pulling her up with him. “You should get dressed – uh – properly,” he flushed as he looked at her nightgown and she rolled her eyes. Bless him.

“You just put it on me! And you were looking at me naked not a few hours ago sweetie, dear god you’re adorable when you blush,” she teased, pinching his cheek and trying to forget about everything she’d remembered. Maybe he wouldn’t ask.

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, dropping a kiss to her smiling mouth. “Is it safe for us to go now?” Her hearts dropped to her toes and she sighed softly. “What is it? You know why we’re here, yeah?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she breathed the words out and he frowned down at her, swallowing hard.

“What is it River? What aren’t you telling me?”

She felt tears burn in her eyes as she looked at him. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “There isn’t any danger.”

“What do you mean? We weren’t followed or discovered? Because that doesn’t mean we’re _safe_ River. Was it the Silence?” She shook her head, tears in her eyes as he watched her, distressed.

“Sit down for a moment, my love,” she pushed him down to the bed and sat next to him, taking his hands in hers. He stared at her fearfully and she took a deep breath. “There wasn’t any danger,” she explained in a soft voice.

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“It was – it was you, sweetie. You did it.” She spoke gently and he looked at her with his brow furrowed.

“Yes, to _save_ us,” he insisted and she nodded, wrapping an arm around him.

“In a way, yes.” She answered and he shook his head.

“Explain it to me River, what _exactly_ happened?”

She swallowed, dropping her arm to wipe at her cheeks, but she kept the other hand laced tightly in his. “You picked me up – told me to get dressed because you were taking me to the Singing Towers-” He lept off the bed, releasing her and backing up as if she had burned him and she watched him with tears in her eyes. “We stopped for chips – ran into your younger self – and my younger self I suppose,” she stood and he shook his head, tears in his eyes.

 _“No,”_ he whispered and she reached for his hands once more, gripping them tightly as they stood face to face – his back to the wall.

“You cried. I thought it was the music – and you took me home and we –” she licked her lips, and took a deep breath as he trembled in front of her. “We made love and you- you were _so sad_. God – my hearts hurt just watching you. And you tried to give me something – but you broke down, and said you couldn’t do it. That you couldn’t say goodbye.”

His face was so pale she was afraid he might pass out, so she tugged on his hands and they slid to the rug as he shook his head, tears spilling down his face. She stroked his hair back soothingly. “You kept saying it was the only way. We could be together – live and die as humans and unwrite that wretched Library-” she had to pause there, swallowing. “You were so distraught Doctor – you completely broke every single rule we had. You told me – what’s going to happen to me. In the Library.” She explained haltingly and he shook his head, his hands gripping hers so tightly she feared they might break.

“No, no! I won’t _let_ it happen River, I swear. I’ll save you- I’m _going to save you_.” He insisted, his eyes wild and red-rimmed as she nodded, moving to his side and letting go of his hands so she could wrap her arms around him.

“That’s what this was. You were so – so upset sweetie. So mad with it all – I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t. I didn’t – I _don’t_ want to die. I don’t want to leave you, my love. So – I ran with you.” She admitted to him and he sniffled, looking over at her with wet eyes.

“What do we do?” he asked her quietly and she swallowed, feeling a ferocity burn within her.

“We figure something else out. We can’t run – we need to fix it. It _has_ to happen, because I know you – you stupid idiot. As horrid as that was for you – oh my love, I am so so sorry –” She leaned over, kissing him fiercely before she kissed the tear tracks from his cheeks. “I _know_ you. It’s probably what made you start to love me, just a bit.”

“I’d love you without it,” he insisted and she shook her head.

“But would you be _you_? This you my love?  If we change that one thing, it could change your regeneration. I saw you at Asgard you know – you were so – so _sad_.  What if we change this one thing, and it ripples out? No Raggedy Doctor, no landing in Amy’s garden- Doctor.” She looked at him seriously and he glared at her petulantly.

“What do we do?” he asked again and she wipes her face, and then his. Her fingers press into the line of his jaw as she tilts his chin up until he meets her eyes.

“We _fix_ it. But _together_.”

_xx_

They find the TARDIS with ease – standing still and firm – still the brightest blue despite the fact that she’s not budged for almost two years. A little re-wiring and some help from the TARDIS and they are able to restore the Doctor’s DNA and final memories.

That was easy in comparison to the wave of horror and guilt that washed over him when he remembered what he’d done. All his efforts not to lose her – and he’d almost lost her anyway. He lost himself for a while in a storm of guilt and pain, but she knew better than to try to cajole him out of it. She let him storm and stew and spent the time he fretted in, searching the TARDIS databank for information.

When he finally came back into the console room – out of the tweed and back in his purple greatcoat once more - she smiled over at him. “Better?”

“Not nearly.” He answered with a snap and she sighed He threw himself into the jumpseat and she glanced at him with an arched brow. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being churlish,” he dragged a hand over his face and looked up at her with those immensely sad eyes again and she looked at him sympathetically.

“Okay so I have a few ideas. I thought ganger at first – but the storage capacity would be terrible and I can’t figure out remote control. Plus you’d have noticed the pile of disused flesh I’d think. Then I thought Tesselecta, but the red tape is horrendous and I doubt they’ll be as eager to lend you one since you set the last one _on fire_.”

“Technically, River, _you_ set it on fire,” he sniffed and pulled at his lapels as she glared at him. “Right, so that’s out. What else is there?”

“We need something that can be programmed well enough to fool you. And with an immense storage capacity to support the transfer.”

“And it has to disappear,” he pointed out and she nodded.

“I saw – I hope you don’t mind – but there’s a file about you and my parents being stranded on a planet called Phayke once.” Her frowned in response before he lit up as he remembered.

“Ugh yes, your parents checked their _email_ from the Tardis matrix – loads of spam got filtered it – they had a huge fight about friending requests on some ridiculous site – the spam overloaded the matrix and we had to land for a few hours. Phayke – whole _planet_ created out of hard light holograms.” He grinned in remembrance before shock fell across his face. “Oh you are _brilliant_ ,” he breathed out, looking at her.

“A hard light hologram from the 43rd century on would easily have enough nanomemory to complete the transfer. I’d still have to go – for the first part, but if we had a transfer relay switch – they could take my place. We’d need a switch that looked plausible though – something it would seem normal for me to just carry with me the whole time,” she mused and he leapt up.

“Your screwdriver!” He shouted and she turned to him with an arched brow.

“I don’t have a screwdriver,” she pointed out and he shook his head.

“No but you _did_. I made you one – red settings and dampeners and a _holoemitting transfer switch_ it is _perfect_!” He all but bounced in glee around her, running over to pick her up by the waist, and twirling her in giddy delight. “But how do we make the switch? When? It will have to be when no one is around – and close to the time you – you were never alone. Well I mean – after you knocked me out –”

“I knocked you out?” she asked with a grin and he glared at her, rubbing his jaw.

“Mean right hook – did your father teach you that?”

“Oh, looking forward to it, honey,” she teased and he rolled his eyes. “So we have the when, and the how – now we just need to get a volunteer.” She mused and the Doctor laughed.

“Oh no worries about that. I happen to know the most immensely _helpful_ chap on Phayke. He owes me a favour, really.” She grinned at him and he beamed back, kissing her quickly before he scrambled around her, flicking switches and pulling levers. “You, my wife, are very, _very_ good. Have I ever told you that?”

“Not _nearly_ often enough, my love.”

_xx_

Phayke was an immense planet, filled with Grecian architecture and cobbled streets. The Doctor all but bounced out of the TARDIS, his hand wrapped tightly around hers. “Absolutely fascinating when you realize _everything_ is a hard light hologram. I mean, we’re one malfunction away from just floating in deep space,” the Doctor pointed out with a grin and River stared at him, aghast.

“And people _vacation_ here?”

“Well no – normally no life forms come here. It’s a bit of planet just for the holograms, actually. You know I never found out _why_ it existed when we were here last,” he mused.

“Well Doctor, you never _asked_. I’d have of course volunteered the information had you enquired. We were originally built as a storage facility by the fifth bountiful human empire. But our programs somehow managed to evolve here – and since obtaining a certain sense of sentience – we’ve begun gathering abandoned holograms here.” An old bald man wrapped in an orange robe walked up to them, a calm smile on his face and the Doctor spun around with a grin.

“Image! River, this is Image – the Council Elder. Image – this is my wife, River Song.”

“A wife! Has it been so long since you’ve seen us then, Doctor? Hello,” he smiled at River and shook her hand.

“It has been a while for me, yes,” the Doctor admitted and River grinned at him.

“Well, your husband once saved our very existence Mrs Song.” Image leaned forward to explain to her and she laughed, leaning in with a wink.

“You’d be surprised how often I hear that.” She ignored the Doctor’s insulted face and looked at Image seriously. “We were actually hoping you could help us design something, Image. And possibly ask for a volunteer.”

“I’d be _immensely_ grateful Image,” the Doctor added, looking over at River. “It’s of the utmost importance.”

“I will help you in any way I can, Doctor. Gladly.”

_xx_

The hologram took weeks to work on – perfecting it gradually. River made the Doctor recount every minute detail of the Library so she could write the program properly. The Doctor worked with Image on the finer details of her appearance.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to do that?” she protested as the Doctor scoffed.

“I have been looking at you for _hundreds_ of years River Song, don’t tell me I don’t know every single _detail_ of your face and figure.”

She also helped him with the screwdriver – adding the red settings, and tinkering with the holoemitter and the digital ghost. “I don’t think we need it,” he insisted and she shook her head.

“Yes, we do. You need to believe that you’ve saved me _somehow_ sweetie.”

“But it’s like she’s _you_. Trapped in there. I don’t like it,” he insisted stubbornly and she smiled at him.

“I’ve altered some things about her personality – just bits. So she won’t try to get out on her own. What if we – what if we embed you in there too? Could we do that? Hidden in the code – I’d be happy, so long as you were with me.” He looked at her seriously for a moment, before he grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of their lab and back to their ship where he pressed her into the door and kissed her hungrily.

Several hours later they stumbled back out of the TARDIS, and she began taking scans of him as well, so he could embed his own data ghost within hers.

_xx_

“Wait – have we figured out how to get you out of there once Image’s hologram is activated and he’s... well – _you_?”

“How do I ever get anywhere sweetie? I’ll use my manipulator,” she shrugged and he shook his head, pulling her closer.

“I don’t like it – can’t I pick you up?”

“In the middle of the Library core? With your younger self _feet_ away?” She asked incredulously and he nodded. “Sweetie...”

“I could do it River – I could. Invisible. I’ll land silently. I’ll be there before you ever get down there- I’ll be there the whole time.” She stared at him and sighed, taking his face in her hands.

“Why, so you can torture yourself by watching?”

“I need to River – please. Don’t make me wait, I couldn’t _bear_ it.” His voice was strained and she kissed him softly, pressing her body into his.

“Okay.”

“Really?” he looked at her with a hopeful grin.

“Really.” She choked the affirmation out around the sensation of him hugging her as tightly as he could.

_xx_

Eventually, everything was ready. Image was waiting for this signal that would transport him to the Library to take her place, the sonic was ready – all she had to do was go home, get on the Transport and go to the Library.

“You have to remember to call me there River. On the psychic paper. I know – the TARDIS will make sure he gets it. _I_ get it.” He was babbling, standing next to her by the console as she tapped in the coordinates. They’d actually _been_ ready three days ago – but every time she suggested leaving, he’d distracted her with his words, or something they simply _had_ to see – or just plain would drag her into the nearest convenient room and distract her in more pleasant ways.

“Sweetie,” she spoke softly and he shook his head.

“What if something goes wrong? What if we change everything? River-” He choked up, pulling her toward him and crushing her within his arms. His face pressed into her hair and she could feel his breathing – rapid and quick under her palms.

“Shhhh, sweetie. You’ll hyperventilate – stop.  You can just – go right there. No waiting. I’ll not even get mad at you okay?” She smoothed her hands over his shoulders and he pulled back, looking down at her.

“River, if this all goes wrong-”

“It won’t,” she refused to acknowledge his fears because once she did, she had to admit to her own – and she wasn’t strong enough to handle that.

“I want you to know that I’d do every bit of it over again. I have never loved anyone for this _long_. Or this much. And it was worth it – every _second_ of it was worth it. I love you – more than my own life.” His voice was thick and she swallowed, clutching the sonic in her hand tightly.

“I know, honey. I love you too. And even if it doesn’t work – It _has_ to work – but if it doesn’t – we’re together.” She held up the sonic and he smiled, nodding. “Forever.” He reached for her hand holding the sonic, brushing his fingers over the brass ring on the side that she’d looped her third finger through.

“It’s like a wedding ring,” he laughed hollowly and she reached up, kissing him softly.

“Don’t forget it then,” she instructed softly and he smiled at her. “I’ll want to keep that.”

“You have to go now – I can’t – I want to just tie you down here and never let you leave,” his laughter was sharp and bitter, stuck in his throat like shards of glass and she winked at him.

“Save that for the honeymoon.”

“We got married over three hundred years ago, River Song. I think we’re out of the honeymoon phase,” he smiled weakly and she laughed, picking up her bag.

“So marry me all over again when I get back.” She kissed him fiercely one last time, her mouth opening under his, and both of them pretending they couldn’t taste the salt of tears.  “I love you,” she whispered against his lips and he smiled, his hands curling into her hair as he peppered kisses all over her face.

“I love you too. So much.”

“Now go rescue me, husband,” She pulled back, turning away and striding down the steps and out of the doors before she could do anything stupid like look back, run into his arms and refuse to ever leave.

This would work. It _had_ to.

_xx_

He paced back and forth, around and around the time rotor – glancing up at the monitor every time. The TARDIS had tapped into the Library’s surveillance systems – and oh god, he’d thought this had been difficult the first go round.

When her face fell as his younger self asks who she is, he felt like someone had punched him in the chest. Because he knew what that felt like, now. To have the person you love most in the universe stare at you like a stranger. “River,” his whisper echoed around the empty console room as he watched and waited.

And oh god but he _hated_ his younger face. He didn’t even know – wasn’t even _aware_. He watched it all unfold, and paced around his glass floor like he could out run his own guilt and pain over everything. He watched them lose Miss Evangelista – who’d only been trying to help. He’d been so _thick_. “So stupid,” he shouted at the screen, banging the side of it with his palm. “Stupid, thick, _boy_!”

Proper Dave was next, and then Other Dave. And Anita – _oh Anita_. River had been closer to her – he could tell. He wasn’t sure how close – but now he could read the heartbreak in her eyes. Finally – _finally_ she was knocking his younger self out. He raced across the console room, bursting out of the shielded TARDIS. “River!”

She turned at his voice, a smile on her face as she ran over, hugging him tightly. “Doctor – oh god, I’ve _missed_ you.” He buried his face in her ponytail, not thinking about how he’d gone straight for her garden to here. But she knew anyway – she’d told him to do it. “Come on, no time to waste – I don’t think you’ll stay out for long. You start wiring the console, I’ll drag your sorry arse over there.”

“Oh – right – forgot one thing,” he grinned, reaching into his pockets and pulling out three jammie dodgers, a yo-yo, four crayons, his sonic and finally a pair of handcuffs.

“Why do you even _have_ handcuffs?” She frowned at him and he grinned, stroking a finger along her nose.

“Oh you know why,” he laughed and she rolled her eyes.

“ _Here_ though?” she shook her head at him and took the hand cuffs from his hand.

“Oh, _shut up_ ,” he spoke fondly, moving over to the wall panel and setting the countdown as he rewired everything. He didn’t watched as she dragged him across the floor.

“God, for a matchstick you certainly weigh a few stone, sweetie,” she spoke – out of breath and he glanced back to see her hand cuffing him to the wall. She paused, running a hand over his hair before she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head. When she looked up he lifted his brows. “Jealous?”

“Have I ever been when there’s been two of me before?” he muttered and she grinned.

“Naughty,” she laughed as she placed the sonic on the floor – just out of his younger self’s reach.

“Diary too, River,” he speaks in a soft tone and she snapped her gaze to his.

“No! You didn’t say-”

“It was there. I’m sorry dear, but you won’t need it.” She frowned for a moment before she sighed and pulled it out of the side pocket of her spacesuit. She hugged it, pressing a kiss to the cover before she placed it on the floor, and placed the sonic on top. She activated the button and Image shimmered into existence – except he looked just like River did now. “Image – are you ready?” he asked and the hologram walked up to the platform with a smile.

“The programming is highly detailed, Doctor. I shall do exactly as I was instructed.”

The Doctor nodded, and showed Image the wires that had to be connected before he could complete the circuit. “Thank you, friend. I’ll not forget this.”

“Our debt is paid Doctor. We are – as you say – even,” Image smiled and settled into the throne, continuing the wiring.

“Sweetie, come _on_ , you’re waking up,” River stood in the open TARDIS doorway and he looked up with a smile. He crossed the room, not looking back as he shut the door and joined his wife inside. She was already standing at the console, eyes fastened to the monitor even as she stripped out of the spacesuit. “If I never wear one of those again in my lifetime – that would be fantastic.” She muttered, standing there in nothing but a snug tank top and a pair of tight shorts.

“We can throw it in the nearest supernova,” he offered as he stood next to her, his hands sliding along her waist as he turned her to face him.

“Gladly,” she agreed. “Sweetie we should keep an eye-”

“No,” he interrupted her fiercely. “I don’t want you to watch that. Come here, River,” he pulled her closer, dipping his head as he kissed her. She relaxed into him, kissing him back with a hum, her mouth opening over his. He kissed her like she might disappear – because even having her here now – until his younger self uploaded that data ghost – he couldn’t actually _believe_ it.  His hands roamed her body, sliding down over her bum and pulling her into him as she moaned.

Her tongue slid into his mouth and he pushed her back against the console, leaning her back as he dropped kisses across her face and neck and shoulders as she giggled. “Not the console, honey – good lord if you turn the shell blue again, we will ruin everything.” She pushed him back into the jumpseat, and climbed into his lap, her mouth on his neck. Behind her on the screen – a recreation of her was crying and placing a crown on her head. It was jarring – so he closed his eyes to the bright light, his hands stroking at her as he pressed his hips up and pushed her shoulders back, kissing her over her hearts. A flash of light and he opened his eyes to see her still sat there, smiling down at him. “I love you,” her voice was quiet and he smiled brightly up at her.

“I love yo- _ooh_!” He lifted his hip to shove a hand in his pocket and pull out his psychic paper. _Transfer complete. All went well, Doctor. Visit us again some time, you would be welcomed always. – Image_   “Look,” he showed River the paper and she grinned down at him.

“We did it,” she breathed out and he laughed giddily.

“He still has to upload you,” he warned and she laughed, bouncing in his lap.

“We _did_ it sweetie!” She beamed down at him and then leaned in, kissing him as her fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently.  His hand slid under her tank top to roam the expanse of skin there as she hummed into his mouth and rolled her hips over his.

“River,” his voice was ragged and he could feel his hearts pounding. She was here. She was here for good – she was never leaving him ever again. “God, River,” he groaned, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed against the stiff peaks and she moaned, pulling back and tugging his bowtie undone. Her hands were shaking – but so were his – he knew neither of them had ever wanted to admit just how terrified they’d been that everything would go wrong.

She tore at his clothing – almost savagely – her whole frame shaking as she stripped him bare. He pulled and tugged at her own clothes and finally they were skin to skin – hearts to hearts and she was moving over and above him and he felt himself slide within her as they both sighed in relief. He kissed her, cradling her against his chest – his grip suddenly gentle and his kiss slow and thorough. “I was so afraid,” she whispered the words against his skin and he nodded, a hand combing through her hair as she undulated slowly over him.

“I was too, River, I was too,” he assured her, his voice thick with tears as she rose and fell over him. Their hearts beat in a solid four beat between their chests and he buried his face by her neck. “I couldn’t lose you – I couldn’t ever bear it.”

“You won’t. Not ever,” she promised rashly, and his hearts stuttered in his chest, even as everything in the room seemed to constrict around him until all he could hear was her breathing, and all he could smell was the scent of sex, heavy in the air. She was the only thing that existed around him. He knew she would never be able to keep that promise – she had just this life left, but he would make damned sure it lasted as long as his own.

They moved together, whispered promises and words of love passed back and forth between them like gifts. She shook over him, pressing in close, closer, as close as she could get as she shuddered around him. He buried his face in her hair and followed her over the edge, clutching at her like she might simply disappear.

Afterward they lay together, their breathing heavy and he watched the monitor as his younger self race to upload the data ghost to the Library core. She turned her head, watching with him as she laced their fingers together. “Look at you go,” she smiled, and turned her head to press a soft kiss to his chest. “My hero.”

They watched the younger Doctor upload their data ghosts and he sighed. “There we go.” He spoke softly and River nodded. “Do you think they’ll be happy? In there?”

“I think I’d be happy anywhere with you, my love,” she turned her head and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Me too,” he admitted. “Without you River- it’d be madness and chaos. I don’t know what I would become. You’re my still point in all that you know.” Her arms tightened around him, her body like a weight over his own. He sighed, brushing a hand through her hair as he kissed her forehead.

“You anchor me.”

 

 


End file.
